


alone

by piyochaii



Series: Decinti Hell [2]
Category: Death Parade (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Slight OOCness, call the amberlamps please, cause he thinks he's a cool kid, delinquent ginti, ginti is such a loser, that book is real btw, theyre like in highschool or smth, this is more so platonic than anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 22:16:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3545738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piyochaii/pseuds/piyochaii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginti finds that the quiet kid in the library is more interesting than he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	alone

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, yes, hello, I'm back. Guess who was bullied into yet another AU fic. Please enjoy.

Ginti often found himself searching for new areas to skip classes in, the library was just one of the many areas he found enjoyable.

 

The building was the epitome of peace. He didn’t read books unless required but being surrounded by them was calming. The silence that filled the rooms was somewhat blissful compared to the noisy hallways.

 

He started noticing that he wasn’t as alone in the library as he thought.

 

It was the same kid every day. He always sat in the corner of the library by himself, reading a book of some sort. He always looked a bit sad, yet attentive to his books. He never read the same book twice either. They were all different. What kid hung out in the library to skip class?

 

Ginti figured that the boy was most likely not a delinquent like him. He didn’t look rough. The kid didn’t even look like he could possibly hurt anything. Instead, even from afar he gave off a calming aura. He was the exact opposite of Ginti.

 

Originally, he planned to stay away from the kid and give him some space. Eventually though, he started sitting at tables closer to him before actually sitting at the same table. The kid never said anything about it, even when he stared as intensely he could at him.

 

Ginti was somewhat worried. Who wanted to be in a library by themself? It was obvious he enjoyed learning, if the books he read were anything to go by.

 

At some point, he even asked the librarian about him. She had told him his name was Decim, although that was all she knew about him. That and he responded in short sentences and never said more than needed.

 

“Why are you in this dumb library by yourself skipping class?” Ginti couldn’t resist holding back his question any longer. He had already been sitting by Decim for a few days now and the question was eating him away.

 

Decim seemed the slightest bit shocked, his eye widening somewhat, but his stoic expression was quick to return. He stared down at his book, not reading but studying the page instead. After a few seconds he shrugged, seeming confused himself.

 

“What the hell. No way you just come in here to sit and read for no reason,” Ginti felt his voice rising in the slightest with each word.

 

Seemingly intimidated by him, Ginti noticed Decim  flinched. He almost missed it, had he not been staring at him  intensely. He watched as the boy gripped his book tighter, pulling it to his chest a bit, as if using it as a barrier between them.

 

Drumming his fingers on the table, Ginti noticed how the other boy’s hair was white. Was that even possible? Maybe he _was_ a delinquent. There was no way a normal person’s hair was naturally that color (although he himself, had unnatural looking hair). Despite his clean look, his hair was messy and covered half his face.

 

“Please stop staring at me.”

 

So he could speak. He hadn’t been expecting the flat, almost dead tone in the voice. It was oddly fitting for him.

 

“You... is your hair naturally that color?” Wait. That was not what he intended to ask. Where was his brain to mouth filter when he needed it,

 

Both of them looked equally shocked.

 

There was a moment of silence as Ginti waited for Decim’s answer, curious to see if he would answer at all.

 

“...Yes.”

 

Was he messing with him? He couldn’t exactly tell from the tone in his voice. He wasn’t sure if he cared anymore.

 

“Whatever...” he mumbled. He just wanted to make sure the kid wasn’t sitting around alone. He understood the feeling of being left out from others and being alone all the time. You had to be your own friend.

 

The tension between the two seemed to lessen as Decim continued with his reading and Ginti stared out the window.

 

Yeah, he definitely didn’t care about Decim.

 

✦ ✦ ✦

 

Ginti would be lying if he said that he had no interest in Decim.

 

Sitting next to him everyday was something closer to instinct than habit. They never talked but Decim was a peaceful person, which eased the silence.

 

The days passed by slowly with Ginti watching Decim read a variety books. He seemed to read everything from math to biology. It was if he was attempting to read every educational book the library held. He even finished the longer looking books in a day or so. Ginti was starting to believe that Decim lived in the library.

 

After watching Decim read for so many days, he noticed the boy seemed to prefer historical art books about painters and sculptors he had never heard of. They had an array or names that Ginti was sure he couldn’t pronounce if he tried. (The most recent books he had been reading were about some dude called Plaque Pikasa or something like that. He figured it was close enough).

 

Many of the books had portraits of people on them, or a painting of some scenery as the cover. This new one in particular though, was of a man holding a knife, trying to slice the person’s neck he was holding down. Despite his efforts, there was woman who seemed to be scolding him while gripping his wrist, most likely in an attempt to stop him.

 

This particular cover intrigued Ginti. So much could be told in a picture with no words, besides the title, _The Age of Caravaggio_ , presumably the artist of the cover. It was a change from the usual boring pictures and seemed much more exciting.

 

He felt his leg shaking, he _really_ wanted to ask about it. They hadn’t talked since Ginti’s odd question. It had been days of Ginti staring at either Decim or out the window, watching the clouds pass by. Both had been interesting to watch. He didn’t care so much about if he was bored or not but that Decim wasn’t alone.

 

“Can you read me that book?” That didn’t come out right. His brain to mouth filter had failed him yet again. What was wrong with him? He wasn’t nervous but he felt off whenever he wanted to say something to Decim.

 

While he was mentally beating himself up, he hadn’t noticed that Decim had, in fact began reading the book.

 

“... Prodicus, as an educational example to to young men...”

 

Listening to Decim speak was a bit otherworldly.

 

Ginti assumed that Decim always spoke with a flat voice that sounded close to bored. He instantly understood that he was wrong.

 

His voice changed in the smallest tone depending on the overall mood of the book. His voice became more flat during the boring parts and the speed at which he spoke at would speed up, trying to get through the section.

 

The opposite was true during the exciting parts or parts Decim seemed to find interesting. Each word was spoken individually as its own unique part before being woven together to form a sentence. It was obvious that each word had it’s own meaning to Decim.

 

Ginti felt... tranquil.

 

He was thinking about Decim’s voice even as he laid his head down and drifted off.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Bless Aimu, Wars and Saro for dragging me into this.


End file.
